my business.
There'll be _etwas_ doing."

"_Can't_ you ever recover from being an undergraduate?" asked Gatewood,
disgusted.

"Well--is there anything the matter with a man getting next to a little
amusement in life?" asked Kerns. "Do you object to my being happy?"

"Amusement? You don't know how to amuse yourself. You don't know how to
be happy. Here you sit, day after day, swallowing Martinis--" He paused
to finish his own, then resumed: "Here you sit, day after day,
intellectually stultified, unemotionally ignorant of the higher and
better life--"

"No, I don't. I've a book upstairs that tells all about that. I read it
when I have holdovers--"

"Kerns, I wish to speak seriously. I've had it on my mind ever since I
married. May I speak frankly?"

"Well, when I come back from Boston--"

"Because I know a girl," interrupted Gatewood--"wait a moment,
Tommy!"--as Kerns rose and sauntered toward the door--"you've plenty of
time to catch your train and be civil, too! I mean to tell you about
that girl, if you'll listen."

Kerns halted and turned upon his friend a pair of eyes, unwinking in
their placid intelligence.

"I was going to say that I know a girl," continued Gatewood, "who is
just the sort of a girl you--"

"No, she isn't!" said Kerns, wheeling to resume his progress toward the
cloakroom.

"Tom!"

Kerns halted.

"_You're_ a fine specimen!" commented Gatewood scornfully. "You spent
the best years of your life in persuading me to get married, and the
first time I try to do the same for you, you make for the tall timber!"

"I know it," admitted Kerns, unashamed; "I'm bashful. I'm a chipmunk for
shyness, so I'll say good night--"

"Come back," said Gatewood coldly.

"But my suit case--"

"You left it at the Lee's, didn't you? Well, you've time enough to go
there, get it, make your train, and listen to me, too. Look here, Kerns,
have you any of the elements of decency about you?"

"No," said Kerns, "not a single element." He seated himself defiantly in
the club window facing Gatewood and began to button his gloves. When he
had finished he settled his new straw hat more comfortably on his head,
and, leaning forward and balancing his malacca walking stick across his
knees, gazed at Gatewood with composure.

"Crank up!" he said pleasantly; "I'm going in less than three minutes."
He pushed the electric knob as an afterthought, and when the gilt
buttons of the club servant glimmered through the dus